


Keep Holding On

by eternaleponine



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: M/M, Sam Anders POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-18
Updated: 2011-06-18
Packaged: 2017-10-20 12:56:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternaleponine/pseuds/eternaleponine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After hearing about Lee's loss, Sam goes to give him what comfort he can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep Holding On

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Mistakes We Knew We Were Making](https://archiveofourown.org/works/212993) by [eternaleponine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternaleponine/pseuds/eternaleponine). 



> This is a remix of the last chapter of another story I wrote, Mistakes We Knew We Were Making, from Sam's POV instead of Lee's.

"Where do you think you're going?" a marine demands, his hand on his gun. Of course I have to run into the one frakker who still cares about anything right now, when the corridors are littered with apathetic crew members who are barely clinging to the will to live.

"I need to get to Colonial One," I tell him. It's the truth, because lying at this point isn't going to get me anywhere good, and could get me some real bad places if I get caught in it.

"Why? You think this is your chance to take over, Cylon? Just because they made the mistake of putting you in a Colonial Fleet uniform doesn't mean we're gonna trust you now." He lifts the gun from its holster, just a little, just enough to get his finger on the trigger.

"I'm not going to take over," I say, gritting my teeth. "What the frak am I going to take over? In case you missed it, we're all in this together, and the Cylons are just as frakked as the Fleet." I try to avoid making it any more 'us' versus 'them', 'my kind' versus 'your kind' than it already is. I don't want to be seen as a Cylon, even if that's what I am. I'm not any different now than I was yesterday or three weeks ago.

I just want to see Lee. But of course I can't say that. I get the feeling that he doesn't want people knowing, and I guess I don't really either. Especially not now, when it could make both of our lives, but probably especially his, more difficult.

"What? If you die, you'll just reboot in a new body and keep on going. I could shoot you right now, and no one would care because they'd just get a brand-spankin'-new version. Right?"

"I don't know. I'd rather not find out. Look, I don't have any weapons on me. You can check. I just want to go see a friend and that's where he is. He can't come here right now. You understand? I just want to see a friend. A _human_ friend. Because some people actually see me, not just a Cylon. Come on, man. I'm not gonna do anything."

I'm getting nowhere, but luckily there's a few people there who know me, and finally with their help I'm able to get on a shuttle and get over to the president's ship. I'll owe some favors, but it's worth it.

I don't run into too many people in the corridors, and I'm glad, because I don't want to deal with any more confrontations. I find the president's office and I'm not surprised to find Lee there. Where else would he be? The hatch is open, so I step inside, and find him sitting in a chair, his back to me, staring at a white board with a number written on it.

I come up beside the chair and crouch down, putting my hand on his knee. "Hey," I say. "I heard about Dualla."

It takes a few seconds before he manages to focus on me, and his eyes are swimming with tears. I want to reach up and brush them away, but I don't. I just wait for him to say something, to give some indication of whether I should stay or go. He doesn't pull away, which is a good sign, I think, or maybe he's just completely numb.

"Yeah," he says finally. The seconds stretch again before he asks in a voice that's rough with emotion, "Shouldn't you be with your wife?"

I swallow a laugh. It's not funny, but there's a part of me that wants to ask the same thing. Not about his wife, obviously. But about mine. Finally I decide I might as well say it. Maybe it will at least knock him out of this daze long enough for me to get him out of this office. "Honestly? I thought _you_ would be with my wife."

His mouth drops open, but I don't give him time to say anything. I don't want to upset him. That's not why I'm here. If he _was_ with Kara right now, if he could find comfort in that, I wouldn't be pissed at either of them for it. Where did we end up when we lost her, after all?

"I saw her come back on a shuttle, and I knew it had come from here. I had to do some serious fast talking to get them to bring me... probably for obvious reasons. They don't trust me. But I didn't think you should be alone."

He sighs and his eyes clear, just a little. "Thank you."

"Of course."

I stand up and hold out my hands. I watch him hesitate, and end up reaching down to take his and pull him up. I keep a hand on his elbow as we walk through the corridors. He directs me to his quarters, but somehow it still feels like I'm leading. He's standing on his own two feet, but I get the feeling that it's only my presence beside him that keeps him upright.

I make sure the hatch is closed and locked behind us, then pull him into my arms and hold him. His forehead rests against the curve of my neck, and it's as if we're made to fit together like this. I slide my arms under his to hold him up, splaying my fingers against the back of his coat. I feel a shudder go through him as he finally lets himself cry. His tears soak into my collar, and I don't try to hush him or make him stop. He needs this. He needs to be allowed to let go and I'm not sure that there is anyone other than me he can safely do that with, or at least I'm the only one he will let himself lose control in front of.

I feel tears slide down my own cheeks, and some of them soak into his hair. I don't know if he notices. It doesn't matter. This isn't about me, and the tears are for him. He's lost more today than any of us, and had to be stronger in the face of it.

My hand comes up to stroke the hair at the back of his neck, my fingers tracing over his skin, and slowly, slowly his sobs subsided into ragged gasps, and then stop.

He lifts his head and looks up at me. "You..." He reaches up and traces his thumb down my cheek.

I lean down and kiss him softly, not wanting to push him into anything he doesn't want right now, but wanting to make it clear that I'm here if this is what he wants, what he needs, like we both needed when the ache of Kara's absence threatened to consume us both.

His lips part against mine, and I take that as a yes.

There is no rush to get our clothes off, no hurry to fall into bed. Maybe he's still deciding whether this is what he wants, or maybe I'm the one hesitating, not wanting to push.

I think about Kara, and whether she would hate me for this, or whether she would even care. Maybe Lee's right and she would just want to be allowed to watch. I work open the buttons of his shirt and slide my hands underneath, touching his skin. He shivers at the touch, his hands clenching tighter on my upper arms to steady himself.

It's the first time I've been with anyone since Kara's return (except Kara, obviously), but it doesn't feel like cheating. Maybe it should, but I'm only doing what I wouldn't begrudge her, so maybe that's what makes the difference. Really, it doesn't matter, because I would do it even if it meant destroying whatever tenuous hold I might have on her anymore.

Maybe we all have destinies. Maybe he is part of mine as much as she is. Maybe I'm just frakking thinking too much.

I push his shirt down off his shoulders, then realize that the cuffs are still buttoned. I take one hand and undo the button, pressing my lips to the inside of his wrist, then the other. I hear his breath shudder in. When I look at him I can't read his expression, and I'm not sure he's even seeing me. I let go of his hands and he shakes off his shirt.

"Lee," I murmur, resting my hand on the side of his neck, my thumb tracing his jaw. He focuses on my face, but I'm still not sure what's going on behind those eyes. I rest my forehead against his and he closes them, so I kiss his eyelids, his forehead, his cheeks and finally his lips. I can feel him shaking as he kisses back.

His fingers work their way into the waistband of my pants, pulling up the hem of my shirts, and I help him get me out of them. He seems less steady by the minute so I guide him to the bed and sit him on it, crouching at his feet again as I slip his shoes from his feet, then his socks.

"Why are you...?" He waves his hand like he doesn't know what he's actually asking.

"Like I said, you need to not be alone," I tell him. "It feels right for me to be here."

"But _why_?" he demands. "I don't need your pity."

Has he forgotten how this all started? Frak it, I shouldn't expect him to be thinking straight. I sure as hell wasn't. "It's not pity," I tell him. "You were there for me when I couldn't hold it together after Kara. You just lost your wife and you're trying to hold it together and you shouldn't have to. I know you can't let them," I jab my finger in the direction of the door, "see you fall apart, but it's just the two of us here."

"I already—" he starts, but I put my finger against his lips to stop him.

"I know. I'm offering you... whatever you need. A chance to forget or to, to feel because I know... you know I know... how hollow and numb and just... frakking gutting it is... a chance to feel something other than nothing. You did it for me, and I'll do it for you. Not out of pity. Out of understanding. Or I'll walk right back out that hatch if you'd rather be alone, but I think you've had enough of that. I think you just don't... don't want to let yourself have it. Have this. I think you think that you deserve to let it gnaw away at you, rot you from the inside out. I think you blame yourself, and—"

Now he's the one that cuts me off, his words coming soft and ragged, choked. "Stop. Please, Sam."

I stop. Whether I'm right or wrong, I'm not here to hurt him. I stay there, at his feet, and wait.

He leans forward and puts his forehead to mine this time, tips his face so the tip of his nose brushes mine. "I need you here," he whispers.

And then there is hurry, a flurry of movement to get out of boots and pants and whatever else remains, until we're curled together in his bed, nearly as narrow as the pilots' berths, skin on skin and it's as if he's suddenly become shy, or at the very least uncertain.

"Roll on your stomach," I suggest, and he does, his face half-buried in his pillow. I kneel beside him and put my hands on his back, tracing them down the length of his spine and back up again. I begin to work the muscles, searching for the knots and tight spots that I know are there, trying to relax them as gently as I can. At first it's almost as if he's fighting me, consciously or not, like he doesn't want to let the tension go, but finally I hear him sigh like he's been holding his breath for a year... for all I know, maybe he frakking has, with all the shit that's gone down... and something gives way.

I work down his arms and legs, and when I reach his back again, he rolls over, reaches for me, pulls me down and kisses me, hard and long and lingering.

"Sam."

Somehow he manages to put everything into that one tiny word, just a name that maybe wasn't even really my name before. It could just be something that was planted in me, along with my entire history that I think I remember.

It doesn't matter. What matters is that with those three letters, that one single syllable, he tells me everything he wants and needs right now.

And I give it to him. I give him everything I have, everything I am, for that little space of time.

Afterward, I pull the blankets over us both, with him forming himself into the curve of my body like he's meant to be there, and exactly like he was that first night, with my arm wrapped over his chest to hold him. I start humming the song that haunts me, the song I remembered more of when we were on Earth, my lips almost touching the hollow behind his ear. I watch as his eyes close, and can feel it when he falls asleep.

I watch him for a while longer, and think about destiny and wonder again if he is part of mine. I don't care one way or another, though, because if he's not, I've made him part of it, and frak the whole frakking universe if they don't like it.

I wake up before him and know that I have to go. I get up carefully so I don't wake him and get dressed. I hope there will be a shuttle to take me back when I get down to the hangar, or my life could get really complicated. As if it isn't already.

But first I find a piece of paper and scribble him a note.

 _Lee,_

 _I'm sorry I couldn't stay. I didn't want to wake you – I figured you needed the sleep. Take care of yourself, and when you can, let others take care of you, too. I'll see you around._

 _Sam_

I watch him for a minute more, then close the hatch behind me.


End file.
